


What the heart wants, it gets

by karkedup



Series: Hoebi-Wan thots out [1]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: 5+1 Things, Age Swap, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Boys In Love, Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Happy Ending, Jedi Master Anakin Skywalker, Love Confessions, M/M, Master Anakin Skywalker & Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Mutual Pining, Padawan Obi-Wan Kenobi, Role Reversal, Sexual Tension, technically he's knighted lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-25
Updated: 2020-12-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:41:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28261059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/karkedup/pseuds/karkedup
Summary: Anakin’s eyes flick to him, and a smirk graces his plush red lips, “Bored already, Obi-Wan?”, he teases.Obi-Wan shakes off a fringe of red hair falling on his face and idly twirls his lightsaber in a low arc. “Not really, just enjoying the view while it lasts.”Two faint splotches of red form on his former Master’s tanned cheeks even as he raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing with mirth.Or:Five times Obi-Wan makes Anakin blush, and the one time Anakin makes up for it.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Hoebi-Wan thots out [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2073450
Comments: 9
Kudos: 151
Collections: Obikin Secret Santa 2020





	What the heart wants, it gets

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silameninggal](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silameninggal/gifts).



> Eeeek this idea had been rattling in my head for so long, and I'm happy to finish it haha. But first a few stuff:
> 
> Happy holidays to silameninggal, who is an amazing person and a friend. I hope this story makes you happy, and lives up to your expectations and feels. I truly hope you enjoy the fill! The prompt was "WRITE WHAT MAKES U HAPPY!!!!!"
> 
> Secondly,thanks and kudos to [ JSwander ](https://archiveofourown.org/users/JSwander/pseuds/JSwander) for organizing and working hard on this amazing obikin 2020 secret santa exchange <3
> 
> Thirdly, thank you everyone who gave ideas, inspirational design concepts(for Master Skywalker) and tips for this fic and listened to me rant about kinks and Hoebi-Wan taking over xD
> 
> Lastly, about the fic:  
> Obi-Wan is 20  
> Anakin is 25

**1.**

The first time it happens, Obi-Wan is sure it’s a trick of light or weather.

He’s kneeling at the centre of the circle formed by the council members and his own Master, Anakin Skywalker. The glow of lightsaber blades of various shades are the only substance illuminating the room, shadows of the pillars fall on the glowing inscriptions on the floor inside the circle.

A green lightsaber hums near his shoulder.

Yoda’s voice echoes in the chamber, "By the right of the Council, by the will of the Force, I dub thee, Obi-Wan Kenobi, a Jedi Knight of the Republic." Moving to another shoulder, it rises above him and deftly severs his braid, the smell of burnt hair and ozone tickles his nose, the braid falling on the ground.

“Rise, Knight Kenobi.”, the Grandmaster continues.

He quickly picks his braid from the ground, clutching it tightly in his palm. He swiftly stands up, and bows deeply to them and straightens up.

Their lightsabers turn off and the light switches back on.

“Knight Skywalker, confer you the Rank of Master, we do.”, Master Yoda says with a twinkle in his eye.

“May the force be with you, Master Skywalker and Knight Kenobi.”, Master Windu wishes them.

He bows, and out of the corner of his eye, sees a robed figure do the same.

Everyone trickles out of the chamber, except for the two of them.

Obi-Wan looks at Anakin, his Master, who walks over to him, lowering his hood, golden scruff decorating his jaw, and loose shoulder length golden-brown locks lightly bouncing against his tunic with his steps.

He stops an excruciating foot away from him, warm sparkle in his eyes, and face proud.

A smile tugs at Obi-Wan’s lips and he bows slightly to him, “Master Skywalker.”

A smirk stretches across his Master’s cherry colored lips, “Knight Kenobi.”, he mimics his bow and holds out his elbow. “Shall we?”

Obi-Wan smiles, reaches out and gently grasps the non-gloved wrist of the offered elbow, ties his padawan braid around the hand, leans towards it and plants a soft kiss on the bare skin of his wrist. He straightens up to see emotion filled wide cerulean eyes staring at him, and a faint crimson hue sits on his Master’s cheeks that quickly dissolves into the tanned skin.

Obi-Wan stares, silently assessing.

It must be due to the heat. It was the hottest day in Coruscant, after all. And desert born child or not, the humidity made the heat insufferable even for Anakin.

The Knight smiles as the elbow his held out for him again, and slips his arm in. “Of course.”

Arm in arm, they walk in companiable silence to their shared quarters. Upon reaching, Obi-Wan palms open the door with his free hand.

As soon as the doors swish close behind them, his arm is freed, and he’s being yanked into a powerful embrace, strong arms wrapping tightly around his waist, his own coming around Anakin’s neck.

There’s a cheerful twinkle in Anakin’s suspiciously misty eyes as he sweeps him off his feet.

“Anakin!” Obi-Wan joyfully laughs as his former Master twirls him, lifting his feet off the ground.

Anakin’s own pride and excitement makes their bond quiver, his own joy mixing in.

He’s gently lowered to the ground, Anakin’s arms still tightly wound around his waist, seemingly unwilling to let go, and Obi-Wan buries his face in the crook of his neck, cherishing his essence.

They stay wrapped around each other for a while, and then Anakin’s arms tighten around his waist. With a gentle squeeze, the blonde draws him away by resting his hands on his shoulders.

Obi-Wan grudgingly pulls back, but stays in Anakin’s personal space.

“I’m so proud of you, Obi-Wan.”, Anakin breathes, squeezing his shoulders affectionately, “You will become a far greater jedi and a person, than I could ever hope to be, you’re strong in the force, and shine so brightly.”

“All because of you, your unwavering faith in me and my abilities, and your training, Master.” The arms wrapped around his former Master’s neck dropped to his buttocks, hands gently massaging them with a practised ease.

“Call me Anakin. I’m no longer your Master, Obi-Wan.”, Anakin says evenly with a smile and smoothly moves out of his embrace, and curves his waist away, the Knight’s hands giving the globes a firm squeeze before they touch the air as Anakin pulls away. The hands retract, and the Knight folds them serenely.

Obi-Wan tucks away the dejection as quick as it comes, and whispers with a small smile, “Anakin, you will always be my Master. There’s no other person, no other man, I’d rather have by my side than you. You mean…more to me than you can imagine.”

Anakin stares at him with an inscrutable gaze, a stray curl suddenly falls over his eyes.

Without thinking, the redhead’s hand shoots out, and he gently tucks it behind his ear, fingers lovingly caress the delicate curl of his ear as he brings his hand to its original position.

Anakin’s cheeks are surprisingly rosy-pink in the orange hue casted by the evening dusk as he answers, “You…you are the brightest part of my life, Obi-Wan. Without you, I would have been a lesser Jedi and a lesser man. There’s no one else I’d have by my side either.”

The truth of his words rings out in the force, and their bond is heavy with their happiness and affection.

The bond…

He looks down, biting his lip, trying not to think about losing one of the most precarious things in his life, besides the man he shares it with.

“Padawan mine, what’s wrong?”, Anakin asks, the bond weighing with concern. The old phrase slipping past his Master’s lips makes him want to throw himself at the man he loves and stay in his arms forever or have a breakdown.

Probably both.

“When are you going to do it?”, He looks up and away at the Coruscanti skylanes bustling with traffic, blinking away the moisture in his eyes.

“We won’t.”

He quickly turns to look at him in shock, “What? Anakin, it is unheard of the Master and padawan pair to keep the bond after the training. The council—”

“Can go frip itself.”, Anakin cheerfully finished for him.

Seeing his scowl, he continues sombrely, “It is true, but we have always been unconventional. The bond makes us strong, we’re stronger and happier together than apart, our missions together during your apprenticeship have proven this countless times. And with the Clone Wars still raging on, we need this bond to guide us and communicate in the battlefield. We will keep the bond, and judging by your recent turmoil, you don’t want it gone either. If anyone has any problem with us being bonded, they can take it up with me.”, he finishes sternly, chin held straight, and his blazingly sharp eyes providing the anchor Obi-Wan desperately needed to save himself from drowning in the storm in his head.

He launches himself towards the older man, who easily catches him in his arms, firmly cradling him against his body, as if shielding him away from others. Anakin feels the younger man nuzzle into his neck.

“I was so afraid of feeling hollow and alone, Anakin. Your presence anchors me.”, he admits in a whisper, absently playing with his Master’s loose honeyed curls.

Arms tighten protectively around him, a chin rests on his spiked hair. “Oh my young Obi-Wan, no will separate us or take you from me. I promise you that.”

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes, letting his Master’s force presence and embrace tranquilize him. A thought dawns on him and he laughs quietly, “Force, we’re the most attached pair in the order, aren’t we?”

Anakin laughs lightly above him, the vibrations in his chest making Obi-Wan’s insides melt. “Now Obi-Wan, to be the most anything in this huge order is a tremendous thing.”

Obi-Wan chuckles, his hands gliding smoothly down his Master’s sides. Twin hands encircle around his wrists, halting them against the curve of the Anakin’s hips, the Knight’s fingertips inches away from touching his backside.

“You have still much to learn, my young Knight Kenobi.”, an amused lilted voice says above him.

“Of course, Master.”, Obi-Wan chuckles as the grip on his wrists hardens.

**2.**

The second time it happens, its too dark to actually look.

“I thought the King looked happy to see us last night. How did it come to _this_?”, Anakin accusingly hisses at him as they run, ducking behind the crates and pillars to avoid blaster fire and the barrage of royal guards chasing them.

A deep sigh fills the air, “Master, I had no idea that the twins were the King’s children.”

They quickly duck in an empty corridor, and make a beeline towards a small gap hidden by the wall structure at the corner.

Anakin shoots him a flat stare, face half concealed by shadows as they crouch. His right eyebrow twitches ever so slightly.

A sign Obi-Wan has come to associate with him being near the end of his patience.

He juts out his bottom lip, “I may have tried to engage them in an amorous congress, and the King may have seen it.”

Something suspiciously akin to anger and jealousy fleetingly skids across his former Master’s face, then a scowl appears on his beautiful features, “Amorous congress.”, he repeats flatly, then lowly growls, “Obi-Wan! Even as a padawan, how many times have I-”

He stops, hearing footsteps getting louder and coming closer.

The redhead spots a small storage area, he lightly pulls sideways at the door, and it slides open.

Blessedly, its empty.

“Anakin, here.”, he whispers. The blonde turns to glare at him, lush red lips poised in an angry pout that Obi-Wan doesn’t want to kiss.

No sir, totally not the reason why he tried to fall in bed with the twins to forget about his gorgeous and unattainable Master.

He crawls into the small, dark space, and tugs at his former Master’s sleeve, “Anakin.”

The blonde looks at him thoughtfully, “We won’t fit.”

Obi-Wan tries not to think about other ways how they’d fit. He curls backwards instead, his back hitting the wall, legs folded awkwardly, the ceiling inches away from his crouched head.

Anakin squints at him, and then looks to the side -–sound of footsteps getting louder— and he climbs in, swiftly and noiselessly sealing the door.

Trapping them in.

Predictably, his head hits the ceiling, and Obi-Wan quickly does the only reasonable thing.

He grabs the back of his Master’s head and shoves his face into his neck, another arm shooting out to steady his tall form against his body, so that his own thighs are splayed on the either side of Anakin’s narrow hips, the blonde’s long limbs awkwardly curled around his hips.

To put it shortly, Anakin is straddling him.

Obi-Wan exhales a breath, trying to calm his racing heart, and shields his emotions tightly, trying not to shiver while his Master’s hot breath hits his neck, those red lips inches away from his skin.

Obi-Wan inhales deeply.

He breathes in a lungful of his Master’s shampoo and deodorant.

Anakin squirms slightly, trying to find a comfortable position for his long limbs cramped in the tight space, arms lying listlessly around his waist.

Obi-Wan’s hands move to settle on his hips, gripping them gently, and he tries to focus on the cold wall digging on his back.

Everything feels hot, and the Knight could hear his Master’s quick exhales, and every inch of him that touches Anakin burns sinfully, clothes feeling too tight on his body.

Obi-Wan hadn’t thought this through at all.

“I suppose we fit, after all.”, Anakin huffs against his neck, lips brushing against his skin, scruffy jaw deliciously rubbing on the oversensitized skin as he speaks.

Obi-Wan, for the umpteenth time, tries not to think about how nicely they’d fit in other ways and how he’d always fantasized about it since puberty.

He doesn’t try to think about how the previous thought is the cause that led to their current scenario.

Anakin adjusts his position on his lap again, trying to get comfortable, and the Knight holds back a whimper when his ass settles against his aching groin.

Anakin shifts, legs moving restlessly.

He feels the blood rush to his erection.

This time Obi-Wan tenses up and hisses lowly, “Master, please.”

Anakin stills on top of him and turns his head to look at him curiously — at least he feels it — the darkness not letting Obi-Wan see his face, save for the two big blue eyes glinting in the dark at him.

He shuts his eyes and rests his heated cheek on his Master’s forehead, feeling the cool softness of smooth, tousled curls, breathing his scent in to calm himself.

One of his hands distractedly starts combing through them.

Anakin wiggles and freezes.

Obi-Wan goes perfectly still, hand still tangled in his Master’s soft hair, other gripping his hip a bit tightly.

He feels the face buried in his neck and under his cheek go rapidly warm, and the steady rhythm of heartbeat against his chest quickens.

A thought hits him. Is Anakin _blushing_?

“Is that your lightsaber or are you too happy with the mission?”, Anakin breathes against his neck.

The attempt at humor would have worked, if not for the strangled tone of his voice and the lightsaber clearly hanging on his belt, which they both knew about.

Obi-Wan bites his lip, his own cheeks coloring, and his traitorous semi-hard dick twitches against the crack of his Master’s bottom.

He feels Anakin’s skin jump, breaths coming in short gasps against his neck, and a soft noise escapes from the blonde’s lips.

Then they hear footsteps coming directly from across them, and both of them tense, holding their breaths.

Anakin relaxes his muscles, now resting most of his weight on his lap, and  
Obi-Wan digs his hand in his hip, fingers tightening in his hair, in an attempt to tell him not to move or sink further in his lap.

Sweat pools against his back, he tries to not snap his hips up to the welcoming heat in his arms.

Anakin’s arms slowly come up, broad palms resting on the wall, brushing against his sides.

Their heartbeats thud loudly in their ears, Obi-Wan brushes his lips against the crown of his Master’s hair, fingers resuming their movements to gently comb through his hair.

Anakin makes a very quiet, inaudible noise in his throat.

“Captain, I think they must have gone upstairs to the upper level.”, A voice comes from outside.

A pause. Then, “Lets move! Up!”

They exhale together.

Anakin moves minutely.

Obi-Wan mentally wills Anakin to stop moving, because if his Master is going to continue to _squirm_ _in his lap_ , he’ll _need_ to capture his mouth in a devouring kiss and hear his screams as he—

He cuts off that thought.

Outside footsteps recede, getting fainter, till silence rings.

A moment of peace washes over them, but neither move. Obi-Wan relaxes, willing his erection to go away.

The peace doesn’t last for long.

 **“** They’re gone. **”,** a very familiar voice calls out as they’re bathed with light, the door sliding open to reveal a grinning Quinlan Vos, “You can _come out of the closet,_ now”, he says eyes twinkling and he’s laughing at his own joke.

Obi-Wan would have ran his stupid smug face with his ligthsaber, if Anakin didn’t hide his face further in his neck, and kriffing _melted_ into his body. He bites back the whimper threatening to spill past his lips as Anakin’s ass settles snuggly on his erection.

“Go kark yourself, Knight Vos.”, his Master’s muffled voice rasps out instead.

Quinlan karking Vos cackles.

Obi-Wan shuts his eyes and nuzzles into his Master’s hair, enjoying the warmth and closeness before it inevitably ends.

 _‘Not so unattainable, after all.’_ He thinks amused, gears turning in his head with new ideas of wooing Anakin.

They both pretend to not hear multiple shutters of a holocamera or Vos giggling.

They’re never going to live this down.

**3.**

The third time it happens, Obi-Wan is pretty sure its real.

They’re crouching behind huge rocks, panting, sweat dribbling down their faces, limbs aching, and battle adrenaline coursing through them.

The smell of gunfire and smoke permeates the air around them, laser fires fizzling around them, as firearm is exchanged on both sides.

Fortunately, they’re on the winning end. After long 24 standard hours.

He tears his gaze away from the battle droids being decimated by the clone troopers, and turns to look at his former Master by his side.

Anakin is half-crouched on the rock besides him, dust and soot smeared on his face, blue eyes avidly scanning their surroundings for incoming battledroids or projectiles, dark tunic ruffling with the wind, half-tied long blonde hair cascading around his face in roguish waves, swaying with the wind and gushes of air from nearby explosions. His blue lightsaber is powered on, clutched in his hand, ready to defend and attack, if needed. The planet’s sun casts a golden glow on him, his curls shining in the light, and the scar on his face looks red on his tanned face.

Obi-Wan’s breath hitches.

His former Master looks kriffing _ethereal_ , like an avenging angel.

As if sensing his gaze, Anakin’s eyes flick to him, and a smirk graces his plush red lips, “Bored already, Obi-Wan?”, he teases.

Obi-Wan shakes off a fringe of red hair falling on his face and idly twirls his lightsaber in a low arc. “Not really, just enjoying the view while it lasts.”

Two faint splotches of red form on his former Master’s tanned cheeks even as he raises an eyebrow, eyes dancing with mirth.

 _‘Interesting.’_ , Obi-Wan notes mentally.

“Oh? I assume it must be pleasing to your eyes?”, he retorts back.

Obi-Wan scootches closer, and licks his lips, tasting salt, dried blood and dirt.

He doesn’t miss the way Anakin’s eyes trace the movement.

Around them, cheers erupt. The sky above them explodes, debris of a Munificent-class frigate raining around them.

They won this battle.

They switch off their lightsabers and clip them to their belts. Anakin stands up, stepping down from the rock so they’re at a level ground, —still hidden from prying eyes— a smirk still on his lips, an inscrutable look in his eyes, as they search for something in his own grey-blue ones.

Under the shower of falling embers, they draw closer to one another, as if under the magnetic pull of their hearts beating in sync, silently calling for each other, force signatures entwining together.

Obi-Wan shudders.

Up close, Obi-Wan has to look up to properly gaze at Anakin, his former Master’s arms come around him, and he returns the embrace. The familiar and intoxicating smell of lightsaber ozone, metal, smoke, sweat, and something purely _Anakin_ fills his nose, making him shudder in excitement and anticipation.

Anakin’s eyes darken, the yellow skies and the fire from the debris descending in the background casts a halo on his head.

The sight takes Obi-Wan’s breath away.

Unable to resist any longer, he stands up on his toes and leans in, their lips a hairsbreadth apart from touching, Anakin’s breath fanning hotly on his face and mouth, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows, dilated pupils fixated on his face, still wearing that indiscernible look.

The Knight cups his cheek, and rubs his thumb on a sharp cheekbone, trailing it down the scruff on his jaw, then tracing it over the swell of his bottom lip with intent.

Anakin’s eyes widen a fraction, and his arms strengthen around him, pulling him closer, so they’re touching from head to toe, their lips brushing ever so slightly due to the movement, sending sparks of desire down their bodies.

He can practically feel Anakin _trembling_ in his arms.

Unable to resist any longer, he closes his eyes, and leans in, feeling Anakin do the same.

The ground starts shaking.

An explosion goes off.

They freeze, their lips almost tasting the other, and open their eyes to blink dumbly at one another.

Next, their commlinks go off. Commander Cody’s and Captain Rex’s static voices filling their ears.

“The separatists have an army hidden under the ground. There’s an underground bunker discovered. Does anybody copy? Generals?”

“We’re not clear in the east sector, another droid army emerging from underground. Generals Skywalker and Kenobi, do you copy?”

Not averting their gazes from each other, they pull back a bit, and lift their commlinks to their mouths.

“We copy, and we see them. Stay out of fire, and move the battalion to the north. Keep the ships running, should we need to retreat quickly. Kenobi, out.”, Obi-Wan says, watching a group of B2 battledroids emerge at the distance.

“Clear out the men, and change the course to the north where we are. If there’s too many, we all make a retreat, keep the ships standing by. Skywalker, out.”, Anakin grits out, arm tightening a fraction around Obi-Wan’s waist, then sliding off. He steps back, robbing Obi-Wan of his comforting warmth and inviting scent.

Obi-Wan scowls in frustration, irritated at the turn of events, and annoyed at having his time with Anakin being interrupted. He looks at the blonde, whose face is now carefully schooled into his signature battle expression, but his eyes look softer, and apologetic.

Not wanting to let this go too soon, he catches Anakin’s gloved wrist just as he turns to leave, and tugs him closer, ignoring the questioning look directed at him.

He stands up on his toes, and smacks a wet kiss on a dusty cheek. Lips curling into a smile when he feels the skin under his mouth go warm. He pulls back, still smiling, free hand giddily reaching down to squeeze his Master’s bottom through his tunic.

He watches, transfixed by the dance of emotions on Anakin’s face that chip away his façade of General Skywalker, leaving purely Anakin Skywalker, a man who is now blushing beet red, his plush lips parted, and eyes shocked, but pupils dilated.

He smiles victoriously, and leans in close enough to whisper, noting the way Anakin’s breath hitches at the closeness, and the way he bites his plump bottom lip.

“Oh _Master_ , the sight was indeed _very_ pleasing, and _every part_ of my body loved it.”, he says just loud enough for them to hear. Not that there was anyone else around them for at least 2 kilometer radius.

Anakin looks at him with wide glassy eyes, hair dishevelled, bottom lip still caught between his teeth as his blush deepens on his handsome and roguish features, ears reddening.

Obi-Wan grins.

Anakin tears his gaze away, and ignites his lightsaber. He blocks a laser bolt aimed at them, and leaps off the rock. Taking his cue, Obi-Wan leaps behind him, and soon they’re cutting through the battledroids heading their way, watching each other’s backs and deflecting laser bolts.

He sneaks a quick peek at Anakin, and finds the older man still flushed, despite returning to the persona of General Skywalker and gracefully plowing through the droids.

 _‘Very interesting indeed’_ , the redhead mused, slashing a droid in half with one quick stroke.

Now they have some cock-blocking Separatist nuisance to take care of.

**4.**

“I’m going to use the ‘fresher, Anakin. I’ll be back shortly.”, Obi-Wan murmurs into his former Master’s ear, and slides out of his stool. Leaning on the bar top next to his empty seat, Anakin nodded at him while he sat nursing his first and only glass of liquor.

The music from the club assaulted his ears, and he felt the vibrations of the tempo beats on the floor as he walked.

The pulsing beats become somewhat muted when he quickly ducks into an empty fresher to wash his hands, and splash his face with cold water.

Drying off his face and hands, he exits the fresher and weaves through the crowd of dancing people. He spots the place where he sat with Anakin and freezes. He scowls at the figure sitting in what was supposed to _his_ place, and leaning into _his_ Master’s space.

He pushes his way past the dancing crowd, silently observing the way the Black bodied Zabrak crowded closer to Anakin who is smiling at him. If   
Obi-Wan hadn’t spent six kriffing years under Anakin’s tutelage, he would have missed the nervous craning of his jaw and the subtle way his Master has titled away from them, sitting on the edge of his barstool.

He quickly steps in between them, sliding in the enticing Vee of his Master’s legs, his back to the Zabrak, and body angled to block his Master’s view of them. His arm encircles Anakin’s waist, another wrapping around his left wrist, thumb stroking the sensitive skin.

He could have sworn he felt a shiver run through the older man’s body.

He tightens his arm, pulling him closer, and says loud enough for the Zabrak to hear, “Did you miss me, dear one?”

Anakin puts his mechanical hand on his chest, not pushing him away, just resting it there. His long legs cross at the ankles behind him, trapping him in.

His eyes track his movements hungrily, and his plush red lips part ever so slightly.

Distantly, Obi-Wan’s aware of the Zabrak’s eyes on them.

Warm puffs of air fan on his cheek and mouth as Anakin scoots closer to him. It hit him then how _close_ they were, sharing the same air. He greedily inhales his Master’s scent of grease, alcohol, soap, and something uniquely _so Anakin_.

Feeling delirious from his Master’s scent and body heat, he moves closer to the alluring warmth and the tempting mouth, feeling the urge to close the few millimetres in between them and taste those soft, full lips of his, and bite them until they were all shiny with their saliva, red, and swollen.

 _Kiss him, kiss him,_ his mind chanted as desire pooled in his chest to close that gap and finally, _finally_ devour his Master’s delectable cherry red lips the way he’d wanted to since he was seventeen, while Anakin starred in his wet dreams. To feel his scruff on his own smooth cheeks and lips as they kissed.

The lights flashing in the club in shades of blue, purple and red made him look downright sinful. His eyes were glazed with something akin to desire, pupils narrowed into slits, as he looked at his former padawan through his pretty lashes.

Obi-Wan leans in and tentatively grazes their mouths, eyes fixed on his Master’s face, enjoying the way his eyes fluttered shut, mild blotches of red blossoming on the handsomely tanned skin, the contrast of the changing lights of the club make his blush look ever more striking, the long eyelashes delicately lowered.

Those lips part under his, waiting for more.

Obi-Wan tightens his grip on his wrist, and slowly angles his face to finally taste that sinful mouth. Anakin’s sucks in a breath and he slightly tilts his face up to meet Obi-Wan’s descending lips.

Someone loudly clears their throat behind them.

Anakin quietly curses as Obi-Wan whirls around, nearly tripping on the floor, to see their informant standing where the Zabrak was, her head cocked amusedly.

Obi-Wan straightens up and feels the skin under his thumb go warm.

He feels Anakin lightly nudge his leg with his boot heel and uncross his ankles, allowing him to move to his seat. Very, very reluctantly and mildly frustrated, Obi-Wan unwillingly retracts his arm and sits down on the newly vacated barstool.

He lets go of Anakin’s wrist but fingers wrap around his and tug with a small squeeze. He squeezes back and settles in, forearm and shoulder brushing against the older man’s chest, feeling the delicious heat radiating off his Master’s body. He shivers a little and shifts on his seat, looking at their informant with composed calmness, waiting for her to start the deal.

His mind though, is a whirlwind of desire, longing, frustration, and he still feels woozy from being so close to Anakin.

“Thanks for the timely save, my padawan.”, a raspy voice murmurs in his ear, and soft curls tickle his cheek, soft lips brushing against the shell of his ear, sucking lightly on the lobe before pulling away, leaving a wetness that makes longing pool low in his belly.

He supresses a shiver and smirks, “Anytime, Master.”

Their hands remain laced throughout the deal.

**5.**

The fifth time it happens, he’s too out of it. But seeing it, makes his heart soar.

The first thing he registers is the unpleasantly loud beeping of monitors, and he lets out a protesting whine at the sound harshly piercing through his senses.

The second thing he notices is that his throat feels like he swallowed sand.

The third thing that hits his senses is the motion on his right hand: warmed durasteel fingers tracing soothing patterns on his palm.

He blearily blinks open his heavy eyes, the white ceilings looking hazy and foggy, and he hears a sharp intake of breath, the movement hand stills.

He wished it didn’t.

“Obi-Wan?”, a beloved voice washes over him like gentle flow of lake water, calming his frayed senses and comforting him.

“An’kin”, he rasps through his too dry mouth. The hand tightens around his, and his Master gets up to shuffle about with the other hand, not willing to let go.

His hand is gently lowered on the bed and he whines. A durasteel hand gently lifts his head up and something cool presses against his chapped lips, and he opens his mouth, the spoon with ice chips goes in, he greedily takes it in, feeling sensation return in his mouth.

Three spoonful of ice chips later, his mouth and throat no longer hurt him, his vision clears a bit. He sees the frazzled and untied honeyed curls of his Master, big blue eyes and the handsome contours of his face. He is being lowered gently on his pillow, and his dropped hand is being cradled in the durasteel palm.

Obi-Wan smiles dopily with too dry lips, the bacta patch on his cheek pulling at his skin at the stretch, and murmurs, “Hello there my darling Anakin….”, he drifts off, hungrily drinking in the sight of Anakin as his eyesight sharpened. “….the prettiest Master in the order.”

Anakin freezes mid-air and a faint rosy blush blossoms high on his cheeks and he gives a teasing smile, “Who knew you were such a lightweight when it came to painkillers?”

He fondly chuckles to himself, deposits the spoon in the cup on the bedside table, and shifts backwards to sit in his chair.

The blue eyes move away from him.

Obi-Wan tugs at the hand he’s still holding and tightens his grip. “Master, stay!”, he pouts.

Anakin stills and looks at him like he has grown two heads. “Obi-Wan I’m right here, I promise.”, he softly assures him, eyes concerned with underlying affection.

Obi-Wan frowns, “Not close enough.” He pats the ample space on his side with their joined hands, “Sit here. I need you close to me.”

An odd expression crosses Anakin’s face and he’s staring at him intently. Obi-Wan pulls at his hand, squeezing it tightly, hoping for Anakin to stop thinking and get closer. He needs his Master, his Anakin, closer to him.

After what it feels like an eternity – to Obi-Wan anyway – the bed dips and the scent of fresh soap hits him over the sanitized and sterile scent of bacta and medbay, their interlocked hands now resting on Anakin’s thigh.

Obi-Wan smiles, “Better.”

Anakin looks like he’s trying not to laugh, while his eyes assess him silently.

“You always soothe my pain, Master, and I love your hair. It is so soft and smells so good. I love your scent, its so warm and inviting. I love your butt too, it deserves all the attention…but only my attention. Others have no right to even look.”, he murmurs, eyes feeling heavy and tongue feeling thick.

“I think you should go back to sleep, my very young padawan. The painkillers are really getting to your head. ”, Anakin says looking a funny mixture of scared and amused, tousled curls softly resting on his tunic as he shook his head.

Obi-Wan tries to sit up to touch them, only to hiss in pain when hot white agony flares in his ribs and he pants, falling back on his pillow.

“Easy, Obi-Wan.”, Anakin murmurs, now hovering above him, still not letting go of his hand.

“It hurts.”, he whimpers.

“I know shh. Go to sleep, we’ll talk when you wake up.” His Master’s flesh hand cards through his hair, and he lets out a pleasured sigh, leaning into his touch, fighting against the sleep in lieu of watching his beautiful, perfect Master. An idea pops into his head.

Obi-Wan pouts, “Anakin, kiss it better.”

The hand stills.

And he’s still lucid enough to observe a fiery crimson hue blossom on his Master’s cheeks, spreading to the skin of his neck hidden by the collar of his inner tunic.

“One day, I must see how far that blush goes.”, He declares his thought out loud.

If possible, the blush deepens.

Obi-Wan’s heart threatens to leap out of chest at that sight, he’s so in love with his gorgeous and utterly perfect former Master that he wants to cry.

“Obi-Wan….”, Anakin whispers in that sweet lilting voice of his, his fingers tighten in his hair, and he squeezes his hand, eyes searching for something on his face, his own face so vulnerable and young as a constellation of emotions glowed in those blue eyes.

“Your presence makes everything better. Please kiss away my pain. I need you.”, Obi-Wan whispers through misty eyes, as if telling him a secret.

In a way he was. He’s laying his heart, mind, and soul bare in front of the man who conquered his heart since he hit puberty, trusting him with his deepest secret; the only person he’s ever loved in his life, his lifeline, his Anakin, his Master.

It may be due to his own impulsiveness and him being tired of hiding it for so long, and being interrupted when he finally got close to being with his Master.

It may also be the drugs in his system that made him confess.

He reaches to his head and brings Anakin’s trembling hand to his mouth, clumsily peppering little kisses across the back of his palm, feeling the pulse beat faster under his finger tips. “Like this.”, he whispers against his knuckles.

The hand in his grasp cups his cheek, Anakin leans down.

Lips hover hesitantly above his forehead for the slightest second, before touching the skin. Then they chastely kiss the skin above the bacta patch on his cheek, moving to the cut on his nose, lingering on the corner of his mouth near the small bruise, before Anakin pulls away, leaving cold air in his wake. Obi-Wan almost whines at the loss but Anakin shifts down, blonde hair softly pooling on his thin medbay issued gown, and then there’s a feather light pressure where his former Master is kissing the place where his ribs hurt. Anakin pulls away and tenderly gazes at him with a gentle smirk, “There, all better? Will you sleep now?”

Obi-Wan pouts, turning his face and nuzzling into the palm on his cheek, and without breaking eye contact, he gestures to his mouth “You didn’t kiss here. It hurts.”

The teasing smirk disappears replaced by a sad, sombre, expression, “Obi-Wan…you don’t.”, Anakin swallows an invisible lump in his throat, “You don’t want this. Besides, I don’t remember you being injured there.”, he finishes with a small smirk but his eyes tell otherwise.

Obi-Wan’s brain is too muddled and he’s too feverish and sleepy from the painkillers to process that look, but Anakin looks sad.

He doesn’t like it one bit.

“You…you don’t have the right to remain sad, Master.”, reaching out to smooth the frown, but the hand moves from his cheek to gently catch it, and a kiss is planted on his knuckle. “Sleep, Obi-Wan.”, Anakin says softly, depositing his hand on his stomach.

Obi-Wan shakes his head minutely, aware that too much movement will make him nauseous. “Don’t want to. I wouldn’t be able to look at your face.”

Anakin’s lips twitch in a dry smile. “You can look all you want when you wake up.”

Obi-Wan mumbles, “I intend to look at it now. It’s nice, and you’re warm.”

Trying and failing to extract his durasteel palm from his former padawan’s death grip, Anakin gently points out, “And I told you, I’m not going anywhere. I’d still be there when you wake up. Sleep, you need to heal.”

“Mm”, Obi-Wan murmurs, and then his eyes droop and he mumbles something incoherently.

Mustering the strength to re-open his eyes he looks drowsily at Anakin, “Promise?”

A squeeze of his hand, “I do.”

He gives up fighting his eyes from closing and slurs with a lazy smile, “Been in love with you since f’rever.”

Above him, Anakin goes rigid.

There’s a brief flare of hot panic and molten desperation in force before it completely vanishes.

It goes unnoticed by Obi-Wan.

The redhead still goes on, oblivious to the war raging in his Master’s head, eyes on the verge of falling shut, “Love you so much, my light.”

The last thing he sees is his Master’s blue eyes swimming with tears, his panicked and disbelieving expression, lips mouthing something to himself.

He’s passes out and doesn’t hear a choked voice reverently whispering, “I’m in love with you too, my starbird.”

**+1**

The thing is, Anakin has always known about his padawan’s feelings for him.

What he never knew, was their depth. His former padawan flirted with him, and tried to take him to bed since the day he was legally an adult , not for simple carnal pleasures or deep infatuation.

But because he was in love with him.

The revelation stuns him to the core. Disbelief and deep elation crash inside him like ocean waves, sweeping him away from the shore and onto a place of pure love, and hesitant acceptance.

Tears run freely down his cheeks. He shakily smooths wayward strands of ginger hair off his forehead, durasteel hand gripping his limp hand like a lifeline.

In the moment, millions of thoughts raced in his mind, yet the truest of them all burst through his tongue. He is in love with Obi-Wan.

He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment it came to be, but gradually a few weeks before Obi-Wan came closer to being knighted, he started noticing things.

The way his heart fluttered with each smile that graced the redhead’s soft pink lips, how his eyes couldn’t look away from the dimples on his face whenever the pure joy from his padawan sang through the force; making him strife to do whatever it takes to keep that innocence and happiness alive within his padawan.

The way he had to make an effort to not stare at his lips for long, how his breath got stuck in his lungs whenever his padawan crowded him, kittenish touches getting bolder, hands lingering on his waist for too long to be strictly platonic, wandering palms occasionally slipping to his backside when they’re alone, or in sparring matches in the Resolute or mid battle.

The way those green-grey eyes would dull when he brushed his touches or advances off, only to re-ignite a moment later with a determined spark, flirty quirks of mouth hiding the sadness that still lingered in the force before it was tightly shielded.

He also noted that his padawan’s…amorous congresses reduced after being knighted, and he had the honor of being showered with the full blown Kenobi charm, and being wooed by him. He also noticed the unadulterated love shining under the emerald surface of sparkling lust in his eyes.

Till now, he wondered if he would be just another person for his padawan to conquer, just another notch on his bedpost, or just a passing infatuation that would lessen with distance and independence that came with knighthood.

Instead, Obi-Wan yet again surprised him by doing the exact opposite of what he thought he would or told him to do.

Who was he kidding? If there was one lesson that Obi-Wan took to heart from him, was to re-double his efforts and never give up his heart’s true desires, if its in the right place.

And apparently, he was the one that Obi-Wan’s big heart decided to give shelter to.

If there’s a truth that is an undeniable fact of Anakin Skywalker, is that he loves Obi-Wan Kenobi more than anything and everything.

Even when he didn’t realize it, Obi-Wan has always been the sun that he orbited around.

He leans over the sleeping Knight to press a loving kiss on the forehead. He lets his lips linger for a while. Closing his eyes, he cherishes his soft exhales, the peaceful rise and fall of his chest under him, and relishes in the calm and muted force signature of his former padawan.

He open his eyes and pulls away, gently settling his hand over the rib injury on his body.

He shuts his eyes and concentrates on the force signature of his padawan which moves like serene ripples in still water, the gentleness washing over him, and he smiles instinctively, allowing their force signatures to twine tightly together. He focuses on the rough and irritated source of pain on his padawan’s body. Gathering the force, he channels it to the damaged muscles and flesh, feeling the midi-chlorians work on healing the parts.

A small whimper comes from the redhead. Anakin cracks open a eye, seeing the tiny frown encasing the skin between his eyebrows. He continues the healing and simultaneously sends a deep sleep suggestion, breathing out a relieved sigh as his padawan’s face relaxes, losing the frown. He closes the eye and shifts his attention on the muscles healing under his palm.

A few seconds and intense focus later, the skin under him cools and feels less agitated in the force, and he pulls his hand away, re-opens his eyes, and checks the wound.

It worked! The blue-black skin under the transparent bacta sheet is gone, just a wee bit of swelling remaining.

He then hesitates, but leans in and kisses the skin over the bacta sheet softly. He pulls back, straightens the gown and pulls the covers up to his padawan’s chin. He settles on the chair besides him, and brings the hand held in his durasteel arm to his mouth, brushing soft kisses across the back of it.

“I love you, so much.”, he whispers airily, eyes blinking away elated tears.

The setting sun casts an orangish-red glow through the curtained transparisteel window to his right, and Anakin smiles through his tears.

**~~**

Next day, Obi-Wan finally wakes up.

He turns his face to the right, burying it in his pillow, and groggily groans at the white light of the medbay assaulting his eyes, bringing up his right hand to slap on his eyes to shield it.

Only to find he couldn’t move it. And its surrounded by softness.

Confused, he reluctantly peels open his eyes and the sight makes all traces of drowsiness and sleep blink away from his eyes.

His right hand is being gripped tightly and disappears in the folds of his Master’s arms, two mismatched hands wrapped around his forearm, while a sleep warmed head rested on them, tousled blonde curls falling on his hand.

That explained it then.

He smiles a shaky smile, feeling a burst of warmth blossom in his chest while he takes in the sight of Anakin’s chest rising and falling evenly while he slept, and the way the visible side of his face was slack and devoid of the twisted pain written on his face whenever nightmares plagued him.

He watches him for a long moment, the smile still plastered on his face despite his dry skin’s protests.

His best friend, his Anakin, his Master, and the man he loved, didn’t leave his side.

As if sensing his wakefulness – which he easily did as always – Anakin shifts, curls tickling his bare arm as he moved, hands tightening around him, and he finally trained his sleepy deep blue gaze on him.

He smiles, ocean eyes soft, displaying pure love shimmering in them that made Obi-Wan freeze, his breath catching in his throat.

The look starts fading as Anakin gradually wakes up, being replaced by his usual playful expression, but something in their unsevered bond simmered and stayed.

And for the life of him, Obi-Wan couldn’t understand it.

But it fills him with hope. He stashes it aside for now, to focus on it later when he was fully recovered and coherent.

“I…I hope you didn’t mind me hogging the bed.”, he croaks out.

Anakin smirks, and the deep sleepy rasp of his Master’s voice almost made his heart rate peak, despite hearing it so many times, “Oh no, my back might be killing me, but it seems like the reckless one who jumps into the nest of gundarks gets the priority.”

With that, he casually lifts his hand and plants a wet kiss on his palm.

Obi-Wan gives him a disbelieving stare.

Inside he’s a bundle of excitement, disbelief, and nervousness, trying to search through his brain for anything that could have led to this development.

He vaguely remembers waking up and Anakin feeding him ice chips, and then everything feels woozy.

He must be under painkillers—

His eyes widen like saucers.

Anakin seems to understand his thought process and smirks knowingly at him.

Obi-Wan tries not to let his panic bleed through their bond. Instead, he focuses on combing through the vague and hazy memories of what he _must_ have done.

His face must be making a funny expression, so his Master takes pity on him, but the smirk stays and his hand stays clutched in a durasteel palm as he lifts a cup of water singlehandedly, and brings it to his lips when he sits up, surprised at the lack of pain.

He sends Anakin a questioning look, who softly explains, “I don’t have a talent for force healing, but I had to try. You were in too much pain.”

His heart swells and upon prodding the area, he does feel some traces of Anakin’s warm and golden force signature. He croaks out, “Thank you, Anakin.”

Anakin shakes his head and holds the cup to his mouth. As he drinks little sips, he brings his free hand –IV less, he notes—to encircle around Anakin’s wrist, feeling soothed by the pulse thrumming against his skin.

“You could have fallen into my bed with me for the last two nights, if you didn’t rush off after the droids.”, he says too serenely, with the playful smirk still plastered on his too handsome kriffing face, eyes flicking between looking at him in the eye then to his lips curled around the curve of the cup.

The smirk only broadens as Obi-Wan feels his face heat up, and he swallows big gulps, trying not to choke, aiming to process it all, and trying to remember.

**~~**

He doesn’t remember.

**~~**

Two days later, Obi-Wan is back to their shared quarters. He wakes up to the smell of flatcakes, and briskly finishes his shower and morning routine, skipping meditation. He gets dressed sans boots, and heads out barefooted to their kitchen.

The sight that greets him makes him want to flee or jump his Master right in the middle of the kitchen.

The broad, muscled and tanned back of his Master greets him, golden hair in a ponytail paints the back of his neck in a swirl of tan and golden, powerful muscles rippling on his back and his biceps flex as he rifles through the overhead cupboard searching for something, while one arm effortlessly flips a flatcake on the pan, black leggings resting low on his hips, feet clad in his dark boots.

Never has he seen his master cook breakfast half naked before this day. His traitorous cock gives an interested twitch. He painfully forces himself to avert his lingering gaze from his clothed backside.

Sensing his presence, Anakin turns and sends him a beaming smile, eyes dancing with glee. “Good to see you, sleepyhead.”

He forces a smile, trying to tame his heart hammering in his chest, “Hello Anakin. I see you’ve made flatcakes.”

Anakin turns off the stove and piles their food into two plates, and _sashays_ to their table, placing them.

Obi-Wan _gulps_. With a shuddering breath, he quickly slips towards to his seat, but Anakin catches his wrist.

Face still hot, and butterflies fluttering in his stomach, he stops and turns around to look at Anakin.

Anakin just gives him one of his dazzling smiles, leans down, and places a wet, hot kiss under his ear, “Good morning.”, he murmurs in his beautifully lilted voice, and then the warmth leaves him, as the blonde settles on his chair, picking up his utensils while watching him with a dark gaze.

Obi-Wan’s face turns as red as his hair, and he robotically slips into his seat. The place where Anakin kissed is warm and wet, and it feels branded by his mouth.

**~~**

The next day, Anakin places his hand atop his mid-conversation, while they eat their lunch at Dex’s.

Obi-Wan’s heart flutters and a pink blush adorns his freckled cheeks, while he cuts into his meal with one hand.

The conversation doesn’t stop but Anakin’s eyes darken at the blush.

He still doesn’t remember.

**~~**

The next evening, Anakin crowds him against the kitchen counter as he stretches up to pluck the jar of Nabooian chocolate biscuits from the top shelf.

He stills, heart fluttering with anticipation, and is rewarded when soft lips suck at the reddened skin of his neck.

Their comms chime, disrupting the moment, but his blush remains as Anakin entwines their fingers while Master Yoda briefs them about their next mission.

The memory still doesn’t surface.

He knows he missed something, something major that even Anakin won’t tell him about.

**~~**

While eating dinner at 3AM in Anakin’s quarters at the Resolute, Anakin almost too casually says around his spoon, “I like both.”

Embarrassingly, it takes full twelve seconds for it to sink, his mind short circuits, and he blushes, “Me too.”

Later, as he goes to leave after they finish eating and clean up, Anakin catches his hand and tugs him closer, minty breath on his lips, “Stay.”

He helplessly nods. There isn’t anywhere else he’d rather be.

That night, enclosed safely in the warmth of a sleeping Anakin’s arms, he lies awake on his chest, playing with his Master’s golden locks, and tries to remember what Anakin wouldn’t say.

**~~**

The next morning he remembers, and avoids Anakin, trying to ignore the hurt and knowing look in his eyes, and the gentle prodding at his shields.

He confessed his deepest, and most intimate secret to Anakin.

Anakin didn’t say them back.

**~~**

Anakin decides to kriff it, and communicate, after six hours of being avoided.

The separatists burst in front of them as they came out of hyperspace.

They take out their starfighters and jump into the space battle as alarm roars.

They both crash land on the nearby planet.

**~~**

Anakin narrows his eyes at the lone figure of his padawan standing on the mountain ledge, gazing into the starry skies.

He blows out a breath, and stalks to him with silent steps.

They’re either going to have rough sex tonight, or make love.

Either way, they’ll _talk_ first, and _now_.

He walks, blowing sand under his feet.

Kriff the sand.

**~~**

The fireflies flock together in the dark night, under the silvery glow of the planet’s moon, cool wind blows gently, sending cold shivers through Obi-Wan’s body, the earthen and rich smell of the red sandy ground under his booted feet fills the night air.

A heated, broad chest presses against his back, familiar scent of battle, gunpowder, and Anakin fills his senses, and he tenses, then relaxes as arms come around him, pulling his back flush against the clothed chiselled chest, warm mismatched hands slipping into his cold ones.

“Anakin?”

“You were shivering, padawan. You feel so cold.”, Anakin murmurs in his ear, loving the way Obi-Wan shivers slightly at his words.

Warm lips gently kiss the delicate curl of redhead’s ear, the arms around his waist tighten, his Master’s familiar scent dizzying him along with the alluring warmth that encompasses him.

Then he’s being walked backwards, and he feels the back of Anakin’s boots hit a flattened log, and then Anakin’s sitting down, and he reflexively follows, settling with him. The crackle of fire on wood reaches his ears, he feels with the warmth it radiates.

Anakin settles down, shifting him so that his hips are bracketed by his thighs, long legs stretched out, letting Obi-Wan comfortably sag against him, eyes closed, unwilling to move.

Obi-Wan feels warm, safe, and loved.

Happy tears swim in his closed eyes, he leans back into the hot furnace that is his Master, basking in the peace, warmth and security of his embrace.

A soft, heated kiss is planted on his temple, hands tightening around his own, rubbing his fingers, warming them up.

“It’s a beautiful view that will be seared forever into my eyes, Obi-Wan.”, the sweet lilting voice of his Master fills his ears.

He hums contentedly, enjoying it all and murmurs, eyes still closed, “Yeah, I can’t believe we haven’t been here before.”

Anakin brushes his lips against the shell of his ear and continues, “I can’t look away, Obi-Wan. You’re so mesmerizingly beautiful. My only regret is that you didn’t hear me say the words back before you fell asleep that day.”

His eyes snap open, heart beating faster, he turns around and Anakin shifts them, so that he’s snuggly settled into his chest, blinking up at his Master’s honest, blue, eyes.

Elation and hope flutter in his chest, and a familiar golden beacon of a force signature wraps tightly around him, and he blushes, shivering.

“You’re still cold.”, Anakin murmurs looking deeply into his eyes.

He distractedly murmurs back, entrapped by Anakin’s gaze, “I can use the force to—”

The look in Anakin’s eyes silences him.

Obi-Wan’s stares deeply into them and his breath hitches when he finds the naked love glowing in them. Love for _him._

Anakin looks at him with a vulnerable expression, and whispers, “I truly, deeply, love you, my starbird.”, and claims his lips in a slow, languid kiss.

Obi-Wan kisses him back passionately, and burrows closer to his Master, tightening his grip on Anakin’s hands, getting an equally hard squeeze in return.

They pour all their love, devotion, their hopes, and their need into the long awaited kiss.

The need for air prevails, and they break the kiss, faces flushed, lips tingling as cold, love and arousal prickles their skins.

Obi-Wan’s eyes are dazed and shocked, face flushed warmly, as he stares up at Anakin’s tender eyes.

He leans up and captures his lips in a demanding kiss, sucking in the plush bottom lip and biting it, Anakin lets out a little noise against his mouth, and parts his lips, their tongues dance, exploring each other’s mouths.

“I love you, my Anakin, my light.”, he whispers tearfully between kisses. peppering little kisses all over Anakin’s face.

“I love you too, my starbird, my padawan, _mine_.”, Anakin growls, kissing him messily, then the lips move to suck a mark high on Obi-Wan’s pale neck, who moans loudly, knowing his tunics wouldn’t cover it.

Anakin shifts them so that he’s lying on the flat surface, powerful thighs bracketing Obi-Wan, who is straddling him, their clothed erections rub in a delicious bout of friction, both moaning loudly at the sensation.

Obi-Wan kisses him, devouring his mouth, crawling into his embrace, as if he wanted to get inside his Master and stay there forever.

“The things I’ve waited so long to do you.”, Obi-Wan grits out, grinding down on him, hands untangling from his to explore his body, resting his forehead against his.

“Kriff, the past few days, you were being such a tease that I wanted bend you over our kitchen sink and take you right there. Hear all those cute noises you make, cover you with my marks, and come inside you so deep, that the only cock you’ll ever crave is mine. I’ll ruin you for others, Obi-Wan. I’d never allow you to leave our bedroom for at least a week, missions and war be damned.” Anakin breathes out, arms flying around Obi-Wan’s waist, hips grinding up against his erection.

He watches with pride, love and satisfaction, as a red blush blossoms on his padawan’s cheeks, tips of ears going beet red, and the blush disappears down his pale neck underneath the tunic, and he has a lewd thought about how far it goes and the cute blushes darkens, green eyes glaze and sparkle with desire, the same heat reflecting in Anakin’s dark cerulean eyes.

Still blushing, Obi-Wan leans in and huffs against his lips, “ _I_ was the tease? You were standing cooking breakfast shirtless, the leggings barely covering your sweet backside, and you have no kriffing idea about how much I resisted the urge to take you to my bed and make a mess out of you, tweak those pretty nipples of yours, and lick the sweat off your body while riding you.”, his finger brushes over a hardened nipple teasingly, hearing Anakin’s breath hitch.

“How about the incident at the palace, hm? You were so gorgeous and pliant, all flushed and wiggling on my lap, making those delicious little noises, just shy of practically fucking yourself on my cock. I barely held myself from ripping your leggings off, and taking you right there, letting the entire planet hear how good my Master screams for me.”, he punctuates his words with a roll of hips, and glides down to bite at Anakin’s throat, looking up through his lashes, to see the desire darkened blue eyes, and the flush decorating his skin, light up by the warm hue of the fire.

He continues, “You’re so kriffing beautiful Master. I cannot wait to finally, _finally_ have you the way I’ve always dreamt of. You’re such a marvellous sight, all flushed and spread out for me.”

Anakin’s eyes gleam in mischievous anticipation and he drawls in that sensually lilted voice, “Oh? I suppose I shouldn’t keep you waiting on them, since you’ve waited long and _hard_ for it?”

He rolls his hips and leans up to rub his scruff on his former padawan’s sensitized skin and nips at his jaw, carding his hand through his hair and tugging him down by it.

One of Obi-Wan’s hand settles on his rounded bottom and he gives it a squeeze, a finger teasingly brushing against the cleft of his ass through his leggings, as they breathe each other’s scents in.

Anakin’s hand cups his ass and pulls him down roughly, “Besides padawan mine,”, he growls silently relishing the shudder Obi-Wan gives at that old term, he sinks his teeth in Obi-Wan’s neck, sucking another mark and earning a whine from above him, “I have some of my long awaited fantasies to fulfil too.”

Their eyes meet, ocean blue and blue-grey orbs filled with love. They close the gap, lips meeting, tongues and bodies grappling for dominance.

Around them, the force sings melodiously.

**Author's Note:**

> The unofficial working title of the fic was "Hoebi-Wan thots out".  
> Thank you for reading lovelies <3 and happy holidays to everyone! I hope you all have a safe and happy week ahead <3 and that things get better for all of you <3


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